Slave
by boshrocks
Summary: AU world, sortof. The war is over and Voldemort won. The few survivors were enslaved by the Death Eaters at an auction. Guess who picked Hermione? will get more cheerful.
1. Punishment

Crack!

"Three."

Hermione winced as she felt the whip strike her back. Although every muscle in her body was screaming with agony she would not cry out. She wouldn't give him that pleasure.

Crack!

"Four."

This one, she knew, had broken skin. She felt it rip the skin apart and felt fresh tears, absent since blow one, spring into her eyes.

_Stay strong. For them. _

Crack!

"Five."

_He hasn't broken me yet. _

Her hands clenched and relaxed on the metal grate as the blow hit. The ropes around her wrists, tying her to the gate, dug in painfully. Hermione could already see the bruises starting to form.

Crack!

"Six."

She could hear that malicious glee in her master's voice and knew he was wearing that signature smirk. She could feel the droplets of blood start to roll down her bare back, unlike the tears she was refusing to let fall.

Crack!

"Seven. Had enough?"

"Do your worst." She snarled.

"Have it your way then." He said casually, waving his wand and directing the whip.

Crack!

"Eight."

_Harry wouldn't want you to cave. Especially to him._

Crack!

"Nine."

By now, she knew, her back must be stained with blood. But nothing could ever make her stop fighting.

Crack!

"Ten."

The winter wind on this hillside where the mansion took precedence was biting into her wounds, making them sting even more.

Crack!

"Eleven."

That one opened an older scar, a relic from her past disobediences.

Crack!

"Twelve."

Hermione let out her breath in a sigh and it ballooned out before her, fogging up the metal gate momentarily.

"There, Granger. I hope you've learnt your lesson."

He was standing so close behind her she could feel the heat radiating from his body. Almost delicately he did up her bra before letting it slap onto her painful back, making her gasp as a fresh wave overcame her before she could control the impulse. He zipped up the black dress for her before reaching around to her right hand and untying the ropes.

"You vowed to obey me without question," he said, holding her right hand up showing the V with a cross through it, burnt there by magic. "You're only alive thanks to me, my little slave. Disobey me again and I shall double the usual." He untied the other wrist. "Get back to work."

She turned her head and watched him going back into the house, wanting to throw something at that blond head.

One day.


	2. The Attic

Hermione grimaced as her sore back twinged. She straightened up and leant on her mop, wiping her sweaty forehead.

She had to bend back over and resume her work as the Family came out of the parlour and made their way up the stairs. Young Master Malfoy sent Hermione a vindictive smirk as he passed, which she glanced up and caught.

"How's the back, Granger?" he asked spitefully.

"Draco, don't talk to the creature unless you are issuing an order." His pinched mother commanded. "It's not worth the breath." She smiled evilly.

"Oh I know that, mother. I was just enjoying how pathetic she is."

Hermione glanced away and glared at the wall, knowing she would earn herself a slap if he saw her glaring at him.

The house elves only came out when they heard the doors close above them, showing that the Family had retired for the night. One of the male elves took the mop from Hermione with a sympathetic smile.

"If Miss wants, we will finish this job for her, and be happy to do it for Miss." Daisy ventured tentatively.

Hermione smiled gratefully. "Thank you. I have fresh scars to tend to." There was a distinctive stoop to her shoulders as she walked towards the servants stairs.

She pushed open the creaking door to the attic and made her way around the stored items deftly, knowing the position of them all by heart. In one corner was an old mattress with a few blankets and a discarded cushion on it. On this Hermione sat and lit the candle by the aid of a box of Cook's Matches. A few old photographs were tacked up on the wall behind the mattress, her lost friends smiling down at her, offering their silent hope. An old gramophone stood on an unwanted table, a few old records on the floor next to it.

Taking the candlestick to the gramophone she selected a record and wound up the ancient player. Soon 'A Whiter Shade of Pale' crackled out through the room. She didn't care if the Family heard it. She was past caring how much trouble she got into.

The door creaked open again and Daisy came in bearing a bowl of water and vinegar and a rag. The little elf approached Hermione and gently made her lie down on her front on the mattress.

Hermione winced as the elf began to tend to her cuts from the morning's beating. Gently Daisy cleaned off the dry blood and let the vinegar water do it's work in helping to heal the scars.

"We admire your defiance but Miss should take care. Young Master is growing more impatient with her."

"Good. I want him to hate me as much as I hate him. I know you don't understand why I'm fighting so hard against the inevitable but it's the only way I can keep Harry alive. Dumbledore once said that he would never be gone from Hogwarts as long as those there remained loyal to him. The war may be over and Dumbledore and Harry dead, but although we lost, they will never be gone as long as those few of us that are still here keep fighting against those who brought down the free world." Hermione glanced at a photograph of Harry, Ron and herself on the wall. "Someday we'll win it back. Dumbledore's Army is in pieces, the Order's been disbanded; most of my friends are dead. There's only one Weasley left. Poor Fred."

"Where's he?"

"He's a slave for Fenrir Greyback. Neville is Belatrix Lestrange's slave. Luna was forced to serve Dolores Umbridge along with Professor McGonagall. That's really all that's left of us."

"Pity that." a casual voice said from the doorway. Daisy leapt up as though she'd been stunned and Hermione scrambled round clutching her dress to her. "Daisy, go help the other house elves finishing Granger's work." Draco ordered. Daisy exchanged a look with Hermione who nodded. The little elf disappeared with a pop.

"What are you doing here, sir?" Hermione asked quietly, going to the gramophone and stopping the needle, purposefully showing him the scars on her back, many more than this morning's twelve fresh ones; all his handiwork.

"I came to give you this." There was something odd in his tone; could it be guilt? He placed a little bottle of healing tonic on the gramophone table. She glanced around at him. "I felt bad about this morning."

"Is this sympathy?"

"Yes. Strange isn't it?"

She half laughed. "Yeah. Young Master Malfoy showing something like compassion towards a lowly servant. It's unheard of. I should say slave actually, since you don't pay me anything."

"We don't?"

"I get paid as much as the elves do." She sat down on her mattress. "And treated worse. At least all they get is the physical punishments. I have to endure the verbal as well."

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not. Not really. I know you better than that. Or at least I thought I did."

"I'm really not how I appear."

"I've been your slave for nine months, we were at school together for seven years, I think I know your character pretty well by now."

"No you don't. Not really." He smiled as she restrained her glare at his almost repetition of her own words. "I meant it when I said I was sorry. I'm sorry I had you whipped this morning, out in the cold. I wouldn't have done, if you'd had the sense to yell at me when my father wasn't around to hear it. I deserved to be shouted at, and you're welcome to take your anger out on me when we're alone, but do it in front of father and I must have you punished."

"So if I'd yelled at you, said all the same things I did yesterday, when he wasn't there I wouldn't have been whipped this morning?"

He nodded. "I'd have let it slide. Does that surprise you?"

"You would never let me get away with something like that. Not at school, not here."

"I didn't pay you back for punching me in third year did I?" he smirked, but it wasn't his usual one; this one was nicer, more friendly. "Look, you have every right to be angry with me. I've been ghastly to you, and your friends. I didn't blame you for yelling at me yesterday, like I said, I deserved every word. To tell the truth, I actually like it when you shout at me." here Hermione noticed his blush.

"Why?"

"I've never told anyone this, but I like how you look when you're angry. You don't take crap from anyone and you're not afraid to be rude to those who warrant it. You were never afraid of me. My parents thought we'd break your spirit within a week of your servitude. I knew better. Turn around." he ordered gently. Perplexed, she got up and turned her back on him. Gently he traced the scars. "I knew that however much we punished you for the disobedience I knew going to come from you, however many times I was forced to beat you, that however many taunts and insults I threw at you, you would still keep rebelling. It didn't matter if I drew buckets of blood from you, nothing would break you. Not hard chores, not beatings, not humiliations, not insults or slaps. Nothing. You may not always be screaming at me or my parents, or throwing things at me, or hitting me. It's usually just a look. A defiant, furious, beautiful look which lights up your face, puts colour in your cheeks and reminds me that you are a Gryffindor."

"Malfoy are you on something?" she asked sceptically, glancing over her shoulder and meeting his eyes.

The look there stopped her laughter. Sincerity. He was being honest.

Oh Merlin, that changed everything.

"I'm sorry about these." He said in barely more than a whisper, still stroking her scars. "I wouldn't have given you so many, if father didn't test my wand for the strokes of the whip."

"Sounds like we're both his slaves." She said softly.

She heard him chuckle humourlessly. "It's why I intend to get away from him. Soon. Don't tell anyone."

"I won't. A good servant is discreet." Hermione turned to face him with a kind smile on her lips.

He returned it, keeping his silver eyes locked on her brown ones.

Maybe she had found a kindred spirit in the unlikeliest of places.


	3. Mary Bryant

"Cissy," Bellatrix Lestrange swept into Malfoy Manor the chain of her slave jangling behind her from her delicate hand.

Narcissa Malfoy greeted her sister in her usual cold manner. "Bella, you brought your slave."

"If I don't keep him chained up he tries to escape. Easier to keep him with me. Can your slave look after him while we talk?"

Narcissa observed Hermione coldly as she cleaned the window at the end of the entrance hall. A dismissive wave of Mrs Malfoy's hand was enough to get Bellatrix to drop the chain and push Neville towards Hermione with an equally dismissive "Work."

The sisters swept into the south parlour leaving Neville to join Hermione by the window. With a sardonic look he raised his shackled hands. The skin around his wrists was bruised and cut, like he'd worn the irons for days. The chain dragged along the floor and Hermione picked it up before it scuffed up her clean floor.

"Hey, 'Mione." He said smilingly.

Hermione lifted his hands and slipped into the gap between the shackled hands and him. He smiled into the hug. "I miss you." he said.

"I guess she caught you again, huh?"

"Don't tell me you haven't tried to escape."

Hermione smirked. "Several times but around here without a wand I wouldn't get far. Master Draco would be after me in a heartbeat, just so he could administer the punishment himself before his father got the chance."

"Bitter?"

"Wouldn't you be?" Hermione ducked out from the awkward hug. She turned her back on him and unzipped her dress a little, showing just enough of her scars to give an idea. "I think I trump Harry's, don't you?"

Like Master Draco had done Neville traced a few, but Hermione couldn't read his touch like she had her master's. "Merlin, that's awful. All Mistress does is lock me in the cellar with my memories replaying in my head. She never takes the trouble to punish me herself; she just leaves me to torture myself after planting the images in my head."

Hermione rolled her eyes and zipped up her dress again, turning back in time to see Master Draco pausing to watch them as he crossed the hall. Neville followed her look and saw him, bowing slightly mockingly as they had to.

Draco didn't acknowledge Neville's presence but kept his eyes locked on Hermione. Almost subconsciously Draco walked down towards them. Neville remained quiet as the blond held out a book to Hermione who took it looking perplexed.

"Thought you might like this." Draco said gruffly.

"Are you setting me up, sir?"

"No. Wouldn't do that when my father wasn't around. Thought we established that last night."

Hermione blushed as Neville shot her a very shocked look. "Then what's with the book. First a healing tonic and now a book? Who replaced your personality?"

Draco snorted. "Just read the book. Stupid girl." He muttered the last as he walked away.

Neville stifled his laughter at Hermione's confusion and indignation. "I'm not stupid." She stated.

This made Neville laugh even more. "Neither am I, 'Mione. Not about things like this. Something's going on. Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Uh-huh? 'Last night.' I know sleeping with the boss is one way to move ahead in your career but you've got nowhere to move to, so it seems a little counterproductive."

"I'm not sleeping with him! Really! I'm just his little whipping girl." Hermione winced and shut her eyes. "That came out wrong."

"Hm." She could tell he didn't believe her.

"Stop it, Nev. I hate him, remember? Bully to boss in one cruel move."

Neville grinned smugly. "I'm not saying anything but it's an awfully short gap between love and hate, you know."

"Stop implying that I'm going to fall in love with him."

"I never said it." that grin was getting annoying.

"I'm beginning to think that maybe you got sorted into the wrong house, Longbottom." She snapped.

Neville glanced around and lowered his voice in case any of the Family happened to be near. "That's another point that's been bugging me. Malfoys got first dibs at the auction and the ferret picked you. And he seems to keep you with him."

"He said that was only to stop me getting bullied worse by his father. He went to Master Malfoy and said that he wanted to punish me for my blood status so all punishments go through him and he dictates what work I do. I belong to him. I'm his slave."

Neville looked triumphant. But she cut across him when he opened his mouth to say something.

"Stop reading into this. There's nothing going on."

"Speaking of reading, what book is it?"

Hermione opened it to the title page. "Huh? 'Mary Bryant'. Why would he give me this?"

"She was a slave wasn't she?"

"Convict, who escaped after she was transported to Australia." Now a grin was forming.

"You find a way to escape successfully, let me know and I'll try it." Neville grinned.

"Ooh, that didn't take long." Hermione said resuming her work, setting the book down on the windowsill.

Neville glanced around as Bellatrix and Narcissa came out. He kissed Hermione on the cheek and they wished each other luck before he scurried back to his mistress.

Later, when Hermione finished the window, she forgot the book. About halfway up the hall she passed the door to the library and remembered it and turned back. Accidentally she knocked it off the windowsill.

The book had fallen open and landed on a bookmark. It was a piece of parchment folded thin. The page marked was entitled 'Matrimony'. Ducking into the shadows Hermione unfolded the parchment.

'H,

Meet me in my room after supper.

Bring something in case parentals walk in.

Don't worry, I just want to talk.

D.'

Hermione was glad Neville had left. That comment about talking aside, it didn't look good as far as Neville's theory went. Without a wand Neville wasn't as scared of Hermione.

_I'm sure Master Draco can attest that I don't need a wand to make him see sense._ Hermione thought proudly, balling her hand into a fist.


	4. Draco's Deal

Hermione paused outside Draco's bedroom door, hand raised about to knock. This could very easily be a trap. As much as she could hurt him by taking him by surprise she knew that what with quidditch muscles and reflexes, and the fact that he was now about 6 foot 4, she wouldn't stand a chance if he took her by surprise and tried to rape her.

"Are you going to stand there forever?" Master Draco drawled, that handsome smirk on his face.

_Handsome? Where did that come from?_

Blushing a little she followed him into his room. She couldn't help admiring his toned physique as he leant against the mantelpiece with that infuriating ease of his. Unsure if she should sit or stand, she decided to stand since he hadn't invited her to sit.

"You found the note then?" it was more of a statement than a question.

"It wasn't exactly hard to find." _Oh god Granger, are you flirting with the bastard? _"Although I was a little curious about something."

"Oh?" _Stop smirking, you prick!_

"Yes. What if I had taken your advice and read the book but hadn't found the note until I got to that page, which could be days later?"

_Oh god, that smirk is doing things to me. Damn you Neville, you put these thoughts in my head. I was getting on fine without them there, thank you very much. _

"I had thought of that Hermione, and would have waited up here until you deigned to visit me."

_Did he really just call me Hermione? He's never used my first name before. It sounds…nice coming from him. Stop it!_

"Seems rather superfluous, don't you think?"

"Not for you."

_Don't jump him! Don't jump him! Don't jump him!_

"Why?" _Merlin I have more self-control than I thought._

"Like I said last night I'm planning on getting away from Malfoy Manor soon, and when that happens I'll be taking you with me."

_What? _"You're what?"

"You are my slave after all."

"You'd take me with you?" the news was such a shock that Hermione sank down onto the nearest piece of furniture, which happened to be his bed.

"Don't get me wrong you wouldn't be free. I'm still going to make you work, simply because it's so much fun to watch you having to work while I do nothing."

_Arrogant git! Oh god, he's smirking again. Help._

"Where will you go when you leave here?" somehow she managed to keep her voice casual and her face shocked but impassive.

"One of the other Malfoy estates." He was leaning casually against the bedpost, observing her closely. _Hungrily. No! Shut up!_

"There are more?"

"You didn't think this was the only mansion my family owned did you?"

"Isn't this one enough?"

"There's six in total plus about ten thousand acres of land. Malfoy Place was left to me by my grandfather and I inherited my fortune when I came of age. It's far away from where a lot of death eaters live and pretty private."

_Smug greedy bastard._

"And Malfoy Place is where we'll be going?"

_Stop flirting with him, you tart!_

"Yes. You will receive a moderate wage, and will be more housekeeper than anything. Although when my parents or any of their friends come to the house you will have to resume the sort of work you do here. You will not be beaten for your disobediences, like I said I really do deserve them. It will be your job to run the house and organise the few house elves we have there already. I shall even return to you your wand. I will elaborate on your duties once we get there."

"What's the catch?"

"Excuse me?" curious rather than incredulous.

"Forgive me, Master Draco, but with you there is always a catch. You don't do anything for anyone without it benefiting you too. You offer me this, and yet there doesn't seem to be anything in it for you other than you acquiring someone to run your house for you. I don't really see what else you're getting through all this."

"Since you put it bluntly so shall I. I shall be getting you, Hermione. Not just as a housekeeper but in other more lucrative ways as well."

"I'm not sure I understand." _Yes you do. Neville was right. Go away!_

Draco reached down and raised her right hand, tracing the crossed out V burnt into her skin. "The vow you took was one where you promised to be my slave. True we made you take it but I was the one you vowed to. At Malfoy Place you wouldn't be a slave."

"But to break the curse that way would mean my death, and something is telling me you don't want that."

"Exactly. You still have to be my slave in one way."

"But which way? I still don't see it."

"I never thought you could be this dense. Although considering how little experience you've had in this area, it's hardly that surprising."

_Prat. What is he on about? It can't be- oh Christ!_

"I didn't think you'd ever sink so low as to- I can't even say it." her mouth and face worked as her mind tried to accept this new capacity.

_Come on…give in. You want him and you know it._

_Not like this!_

"The longer it takes you to make up your mind about this offer the less good for you will come out of it. I shall hack away at the list of your privileges with no mercy. Think about what you have now compared to what you will have if you take my offer. It's a small price to pay for moderate freedom, don't you think?"

_If only I could wipe that bloody smirk off his face._

_You don't mean that._

_Piss off._

_Shan't. Not until you see sense. _

_What sense is there in this situation?_

_You've considered it before. You've lusted after him before._

_Not true._

_Very true. Take the offer. It's a small price to pay like he said._

_Damn you._

"Very well, sir, I'll buy my freedom with my body. But not in this house, I'll be murdered by your father if he catches us."

"True."

_Kindred spirit? Hah!_


	5. Malfoy Place

Hermione stared up at the Georgian stately home. It would be her home now.

The house was friendlier than Malfoy Manor, the stone was sunny Bath stone, and the whole place had an air that no real evil had happened there and lingered as some houses had. The gardens were well attended and beautifully fashioned.

But there was something wrong.

It was quiet, almost too quiet. Hermione couldn't think why it was so. There were birds singing in the woodlands behind the estate boundary. A blackbird was singing away quite happily somewhere nearby.

Turning to the village, on the border of which sat Malfoy Place, Hermione realized what the problem was.

The village was a ghost town. Not a soul was present except Hermione and Draco. He was looking at her curiously, observing how she took the news.

"What happened to everyone?"

"Voldemort happened. The first war. House was occupied then. Grandfather lived here while my parents had the Manor. He'd already willed it to me from birth but he didn't believe in Voldemort's ways and methods. Don't get me wrong he believed in pure-blood supremacy but not how Voldemort went about securing it. To punish him for not joining the Death Eaters and for publically denouncing Voldemort and my father for joining him, one night Voldemort cursed this village. A plague came stealthily in the night and killed everyone suddenly. Grandfather caved and donated a large sum of money to Voldemort's cause. Voldemort released the curse but everyone was already dead."

"That's terrible. They didn't do anything to him."

"When has that ever stopped him?"

Hermione knew it was true and turned back to the house. A ghost house for a ghost town.

Hermione was losing herself in her thoughts about the house when she felt a strong hand grip her elbow. "Come along." Draco said gruffly, pulling her forwards into the house.

Inside it was grand but a little dusty. "House elves have only been in since last night. First job, clean up the place." Draco said chuckling a little. "I may even help you."

She looked at him surprised but wisely held her tongue. A snarky comment might reduce her privilege list.

He took her up to her room, small for a house this size but about the same size as the head girl dorm at Hogwarts. Draco made a joke about this; he had been the head boy and they had spent that last year at school yelling at each other in their shared common room. Needless to say it hadn't exactly been a productive partnership.

Hermione liked it, this she could work with. Part of her privilege list had been liberty to ransack the attics and pick out what she wanted. This included hundreds of portraits and beautiful furniture. It also included the clothes she would wear; stored wardrobes of Draco's grandmothers and great grandmothers.

The walls were plainly wallpapered in a golden poppy colour, slightly hideous but when she saw the angle the room faced she understood. The windows faced south and west meaning that it would catch the sun all day. The wallpaper would make the room light without the need for candles and lamps. Plain simple furniture stood around with a similar bed to the ones at Hogwarts.

For the first few days she and her little team of four elves worked hard to clean, tidy and arrange the house. Draco even helped out with some of the heavy lifting. He couldn't help the snide little remark about the fact that Hermione's magic was a little rusty, but he smiled as he said it so she knew it was in jest.

But she hadn't been called to his bed yet. It couldn't be nerves; he was a stud and he knew it. At school he'd been termed the bona fide Sex God.

It was more the fact that he would be her first. He had been right when he said she didn't have a great deal of experience in this area. In fact she practically had no experience.

She observed Draco when she could do so inconspicuously. He caught her looking a lot and sometimes when she was working she felt his eyes on her. He had a habit of appearing suddenly in doorways, making a snide comment and then leaving again.

Days passed before he told her very calmly as she served him dinner that she was to come to his room later that night. _And so it begins…_

In the same breath he informed her that she had to organise a housewarming party for the death eaters and that he would give her the guest list in the morning. Very casually, and with a devilish smirk on his face, he told her that he had advised them to bring their human slaves along to prevent escapes in their absence.


	6. Aftermath and the Party

Hermione lay very still, head turned towards the east facing window where a crack in the curtains betrayed the sun's awakening.

Slowly she turned her head towards Master Draco, who was lying on his front, one arm slung lazily and possessively across her abdomen.

The act itself had been uncomfortable and businesslike. Entirely passionless. Not what she had expected for her first time at all. He had set out ground rules beforehand, the first of which was 'No emotions' and that had certainly held true.

Although she thought she had seen a flash of concern in him when he had first entered her and she had gasped at the strange pain.

She thought she might enjoy it more after a few more nights. He had told her that, unless he specified otherwise, she was to come to his bed every night from now on.

But that was the point. She wasn't supposed to enjoy it. He wasn't doing this for her pleasure; merely to satisfy his own. She was there to be used by him.

The thought occurred to her that she would have to make note of all the things he enjoyed in the bedroom and utilise them later. Otherwise he wouldn't be very pleased with her.

She had to please him or things might go back to the way they were at Malfoy Manor.

But she really should be getting up; she had work to do.

Very carefully, very gently she pushed his arm away and slipped out from under the covers and looked around for her clothes.

"What are you doing?" Draco said groggily.

"I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."

"Hermione," here she froze; he had said it in the same way Ron used to when he was fed up with her, "I told you, in here I'm not 'sir'. In here I'm just Draco."

"I have work to do." She said quietly.

"Let the elves do it."

"I would, if they knew what needed to be done. They rely on me for that." She bowed a little and left the room.

After that he took her every night. She found that once she was used to it she began to enjoy it more, although she never let him know. The one occasion she had reached orgasm and hadn't been able to help expressing it, he had looked annoyingly smug the next morning. After that she vowed to keep control.

In the meantime she was planning the housewarming party. The night before it, he had told her not to come to his bed, and to her vast surprise; she missed it.

The day of the party was hectic as she made all the final arrangements. Even Draco was on edge. They both knew what hung on this party's success. He had told her, with no small amount of fear, that Voldemort was going to put in an appearance.

She was there at the front door, not to welcome the guests, but to usher the slaves into the musicians alcove above the ballroom where they could watch the party in peace.

Together they collected to watch them, sipping from their bottles of Butterbeer. Tonight was a party for the slaves as well as their masters. And, as long as they weren't too loud, they too could have a little fun. Pretty soon they started to swap sob stories about their lives, carefully avoiding mentioning the souls lost to the war.

Hermione was hesitant about telling them the new turn in her enslavement, as she didn't want to make them think badly of her. But they couldn't help noticing the improved state of her dress, or her healthier weight (caused by normal sized meals), or the fact that she had her wand and had set up this little party for them.

"What is going on?" Fred pressed.

Everyone stopped their conversations to hear her answer. "The terms of my enslavement have changed somewhat."

"In what way, changed?" McGonagall asked, a hint of envy in her face.

"It's complicated. Draco gave me certain privileges, but for a price." She filled them in on the terms of her promotion. There was a general outcry of shock and surprise that she would let him do that. She hastened to quieten them.

Annoyingly Neville looked triumphant. "Told you this would happen sooner or later."

"Could you not be too smug about it please? Its demeaning and not what you think. I'm not his lover; I'm his toy."

"Do you enjoy it?"

She looked at Fred curiously, wondering where that had come from. "No. I don't think you can enjoy sex unless there's emotion involved. With him there's no passion at all."

Fred looked slightly satisfied and McGonagall drew her aside. "I can't help feeling responsible for you all and I want you to promise me that you are being careful."

"I use a birth control potion if that's what you mean."

"No, I meant your heart. I know he can be charming but I want to know your heart is safe."

"It is. I won't let him enter my heart. Ergo it won't get broken."

Her former professor gave her a look which plainly said 'I hope not.'


End file.
